


Stepwise Reaction

by niðavellir (KingPreussen)



Series: Biophysics, Relationships, and Other Inscrutable Sciences [3]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, top!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-16 09:36:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15434151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingPreussen/pseuds/ni%C3%B0avellir
Summary: Peter's phone sounded an alarm for the third time that morning, and for the third time, Peter swiped at the off button without opening his eyes. The sun was already rising, sending slanting light in through the windows on the east side of their corner studio that he could see from behind his eyelids. He sighed and rolled over, spooning up behind Wade on the far side of the bed.---Five times Peter did what Wade wanted, and one time Wade did what Peter wanted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> just a cute little work to help with writers block. i love domestics
> 
> all characters are of age. my spidey is a generalized comic spidey, and wade is ryan reynolds, but feel free to imagine whoever

Peter's phone sounded an alarm for the third time that morning, and for the third time, Peter swiped at the off button without opening his eyes. The sun was already rising, sending slanting light in through the windows on the east side of their corner studio that he could see from behind his eyelids. He sighed and rolled over, spooning up behind Wade on the far side of the bed.

" _Still_ not getting up?" Wade asked, taking Peter's hand from where it rested across his chest and kissing the tips of his fingers.

Peter hummed against the back of Wade's neck and concentrated on not letting his hand stick to Wade's mouth. "Got more alarms." His boyfriend was so warm compared to the air around them; this was Peter's first apartment with AC and he kept it at 75 all summer just to flex on his past self. It also helped when he wanted to cuddle with Wade but it was sweltering outside.

Wade shifted in his arms, turning so they were face to face. "Just don't go in," he said, his deep, dark eyes not dulled with sleep fixing on Peter's. For all Wade waxed poetic about Peter's "Bambi eyes", just one glance from Wade could put Peter entirely under his spell.

"I will," Peter replied, because that was the answer he was expected to give. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Wade's lips and tried his hardest to summon his normal work ethic, but then Wade was kissing him back in his sweet, shy way and Peter didn't want to go back to work ever again. "Sorry for waking you up," he said while pulling away.

"Don't worry about it, Petey. We can sleep in," Wade said with a wink. Peter sighed, unable to keep from smiling indulgently at Wade and no doubt encouraging him. He let himself be rolled over onto his back, and then Wade sat up and straddled his hips, looking down at him with mischievous eyes. "You deserve a day off. My hardworking man."

Peter, who couldn't help but start stroking Wade's thighs when all that beautifully lit skin was put in front of him, stopped his slow, circular motions. "I should be your hardworking man _today_. And you should be my gorgeous, generous wife who loves to make me breakfast." He landed a swift, playful open-handed tap to Wade's ass through his tiny little sleeping shorts.

It didn't spur Wade into action. In fact, it just made Wade bite his lip to try and muffle a whimper. "I'm always your wife," he breathed, slowly rolling his hips on Peter's lap. "Stay home."

Peter controlled the next motion with his hands, arching up into Wade's slow rhythm. "I'll stay home," he agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

The fact that robot and/or alien attacks were becoming commonplace in New York was almost enough to convince Peter to try his hand in another city, like Philly or Chicago. Spider-Man got his start with smaller street criminals and he was still _way_ more familiar with talking down a human with a knife than an army of androids created by some wannabe supervillain. 

"DP, on your left!" Peter called, shooting a web with one hand and grabbing the back of an android with the other. They looked just human enough that Peter was uncomfortable doing any more than disabling them, so he tried to herd them toward the Avengers and Deadpool to take care of the dirty work.

Peter threw the android as he swung and flipped upside-down just in time to see Deadpool clinically decapitate it. At least there wasn't any blood--that _really_ would have set off Peter's morality meter.

An explosion startled Peter mid-swing, the blast of heat and light enough to loosen his grip on his web. He was able to catch himself on another building but shrapnel and android parts were falling onto the street below. Civilians, because they _never_ listened to orders to clear out even when it was for their own safety, found themselves caught in the danger area.

Stifling a curse, Peter swung low to the street and tried to reach for one of them, but then another explosion went off much closer and he hit the ground hard on his shoulder. He couldn't feel the impact which only made him more worried; between the irregular thumping of his heart and his slowly shrinking tunnel-vision, Peter knew he was running strictly on adrenaline and had probably broken his arm.

"Spidey!" Peter groaned and raised the arm he hadn't landed on, trying to signal to Wade that he was okay, but his stomach warned him if he tried to sit up he'd be sorry.

Wade was at his side in seconds, kneeling on the asphalt and touching Peter's face through his mask. "Baby boy, you okay?"

"N-not really," Peter said through gritted teeth. "Ribs, arm. Can't feel it yet."

"Shit, fuck, okay. Here." Wade gently put one arm under Peter's knees and the other behind his back, trying not to wrench his shoulder any further, and lifted him up off the ground. Peter wrapped his working arm around Wade's neck to balance himself and tightly shut his eyes, letting Wade's running commentary of the situation drown out the blood rushing in his ears.

Not two minutes later and Peter heard Stark's distinctive repulsors touching down in front of them. "Hand him over, Deadpool," Stark said. His voice, made electronic and slightly deeper through his mask, was unfamiliar and confusing. Peter then realized he had a pretty serious concussion.

Wade hesitated, still securely holding Peter to his chest. Then he relaxed his arms and attempted to hand him over.

Peter wasn't having any of this. "'M fine, Mr Stark, DP's takin' me home," he slurred. He tried to hold tighter to Wade but pain was starting to prickle on his left side and it was getting hard to stay conscious. 

"You know I dislike the Iron Giant as much as anyone else, Spidey," Wade said in a low voice, "But he's got all kinds of hospital-type things at his bougie-ass tower. Our shit is like, dusty."

"Don't care. Wanna stay with you," Peter breathed, pressing his forehead into Wade's neck.

Wade laughed a little nervously. "And I don't want you to bleed out. We both have needs, Webs." He successfully transferred Peter into Iron Man's cold, unyielding arms, only able to pry away Peter's hand because Peter was nervous about using superstrength on him. "I'll be right there, after we're done with the droids, promise."

"These aren't the droids you're looking for," Peter couldn't resist murmuring. Wade laughed again, sounding less nervous, and the last thing Peter felt was Wade gently squeezing the fingers of his good hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont watch or read daredevil but i think its cute how peter and matt are friends

Peter and Matt were usually both so busy that any kind of regular "hanging out" was difficult. Occasionally Peter would have something to do in Hell's Kitchen, or Matt would meet with someone in Stark Tower and run in to Peter in the elevators. So this kind of "hey we're at a bar together on purpose" thing was an anomaly.

Matt took a very refined sip of his scotch. "So, aliens," he said after a comfortable silence.

Peter, looking less refined with his rum-and-coke-minus-the-rum, groaned. "Why New York, man? What'd we do?"

"I mean, if it was going to be anywhere." Matt shrugged his shoulders and smiled, his eyes wandering across the back of the bar as he listened. "Wade must be happy."

Peter knew Matt was baiting him, because if there was anything Peter liked to talk about, it was his boyfriend. Now even Rogers was complaining about how sickly sweet they were with each other. Matt already griped about his own long day and was probably looking to check out under the drone of Peter gushing about Wade, and goddamnit he would get what he wanted.

The moment Peter opened his mouth to talk about _just_ how much Wade liked slicing aliens, his phone vibrated in his pocket. "Sorry, one sec," he murmured, sliding it out and checking his messages. The newest was from Wade (speak of the devil), and it read  > _where r u?_

"Wade okay?" Matt asked before Peter could think of a response.

"How did you--"

"Heartbeat. You two are like teenagers," Matt said, rolling his eyes.

Peter playfully shoved at his shoulder and tapped out a reply. > _out w/ matt. u need me?_

Despite being almost ten years Peter's senior, Wade was peak millennial when it came to his cell phone. Usually Peter could expect a response within seconds of messaging him, especially when he messaged first, but tonight there was a three minute lull. Peter was moments from double texting when Wade sent > _dont think so. hv fun_

> _ill come home rn_ Peter texted, before setting his phone on the bartop. "We might have to cut this short, Matt," he began apologetically, but Matt was already waving his hand.

"If it keeps you from pestering me about Foggy, I'm all for it."

Instead of the normal long winded, emoji-saturated texts Peter was used to, Wade's next message was > _no, im fine, really_

Peter took him at face value. One thing he couldn't stand about the Avengers was their constant jokes about him being Wade's babysitter; the man knew what was best for himself, and Peter wasn't his minder. When he got home he would have plenty of time to smother Wade in kisses and binge pizza and Psych and make sure Wade was _actually_ fine.

> _love you baby_ Peter texted. Then he slid his phone back into his pocket and tried to muster a good mood out of his worry. "So," he said curiously, "What's all this about you and Foggy?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Do you also have the proportionate immune system of a spider?" Wade teased, putting his arm around Peter's shoulders. They were sitting on the roof of their apartment building sans spandex on a not-date and of course Peter had to ruin it with a series of sneezes. 

"No," Peter said, both nasal and irritable. "Sorry for fucking this up, though."

Wade looked surprised, but Peter couldn't tell if it was because of his apology or his swearing. Peter didn't think he was the most romantic man on the planet, but Wade lived for that lovey-dovey stuff. They had a free night together for the first time in weeks and the most Peter could do was get their usual order from the taqueria and ask Wade to watch the sunset with him and he even fucked _that_ up.

"You didn't fuck anything up, baby boy. The Parker Luck must also extend to summer colds." He pulled Peter close and kissed the side of his head, ignoring how hot and sweaty Peter must have felt. "Let's go back inside."

Peter covered his eyes with his hands and sniffled. "I hate being so _fucking_ busy. I hate only seeing you for five minutes at a time before we have to work. I hate that our longest interactions are as Spider-Man and Deadpool and not Peter and Wade. It really, really fucking sucks. And you deserve more than this half-assed sunset shit I tried to set up anyway."

He wanted to keep berating himself but his throat closed up and he coughed so hard it made him dizzy. Wade used his free hand to rub slow circles against Peter's chest, worryingly quiet.

"I don't deserve better," Wade said quietly. Peter frowned, ready to defend Wade against his self-esteem with his life, but Wade smacked another kiss against his head to keep him quiet. "Next week, tell lil' Timmy Stank that you're coming in later in the day. Matt or… one of the other New York based heroes on Netflix can take care of the city for a little while. I'm not gonna patronize you and say you're bringing this stress on yourself, but there's things we can do to make you… _not_ feel like this."

The sun had fully set by then, and Peter's share of their meal was still left in the bag. He stared over at it instead of looking at Wade for a long minute. "Sorry," Peter apologized again.

"No more apologizing. You're allowed to be in a bad mood, Petey." Wade lowered his voice and said, "It's actually kind of hot," successfully pulling a laugh out of Peter's sore chest. "Let's sleep it off. Tomorrow you can call out sick and we can have the gayest, sweetest day ever."

"Even if I feel like shit?" Peter asked, but he was definitely already warm to the idea.

"Even if." Wade hugged him tighter to his side. "The amount of times _I've_ felt like shit, and you did your best to make me feel better, is fucking astronomical."

"'Cause I love you," Peter murmured into Wade's shoulder.

Wade huffed a laugh. "Exactly. Now, inside. I gotta look up how to cure spider colds. Maybe a little eyedropper of Benadryl."


	5. Chapter 5

A little less than half of the "missions" Peter and Wade completed weren't exactly S.H.I.E.L.D. sanctioned. Wade managed to convince Peter that not every job he took was the hack-and-slash type, and after including him in several intimidation and intel gathering assignments Peter was much more open to joining him.

Deadpool was a master of stealth, when he wanted to be. Peter realized now that Wade being loud and brash when they first met was _entirely_ for his benefit; meeting a silent, efficient Deadpool at nineteen would have scared the shit out of him.

Their latest task was to infiltrate a drug ring and finding out the leader's next targets. Years ago, on a quiet night at Wade's apartment before they lived together, Wade explained his stance on drug dealing. "Small time people trying to make it by aren't an issue," he said in a low voice and facing the television, like he expected Peter to blow up on him at any moment. "A little weed here, a little dust there, it keeps the economy moving. But when people stop cutting with B12 and start cutting with fentanyl, I have a problem. Does that make sense?"

It did make sense, and not for the first time Peter felt the urge to kiss Wade. For all the fearmongering other supers did to keep Peter away from him, Wade had an unfailing sense of morality that may have been different from Peter's but was just as strong. Peter thought about that night more often than he imagined he would, at the time.

Unfortunately, the infiltration part wasn't going so well. A lackey they hadn't accounted for alerted everyone else of their presence, and now they had to incapacitate instead of observe.

"Fucking _shit_ , Spidey!" Wade exclaimed, sheathing Bea and dramatically wiping his hands. The last of the lackeys was lying at his feet, unconscious. "That was _not_ what I expected!"

"You're telling me," Peter replied. His wrists were sore from webbing up drug dealers that for the life of them wouldn't stay down. They were based in Hoboken, too, so it wasn’t like they didn't _know_ who Spider-Man was. "You really know how to pick 'em, Pool."

Wade's incredulous expression was visible through his mask. "Me? You're the one who chose this card!"

"You made me pick it out of a hat!"

"I let you pick the hat, too!"

"There weren't exactly a lot of choices, Wade."

Instead of continuing their half-flirtatious banter, Wade stood up straight. Peter felt the faint tingle of his spidey sense and took a step back, bracing himself for an attack, but was surprised when Wade shoved him down to the floor.

Peter saw Wade get shot many times. More times than was strictly necessary, even--and Peter considered even once an avoidable risk. He usually brushed them off with the help of adrenaline and a high pain tolerance, and barely flinched when Peter insisted on cleaning up his wounds in the aftermath. Apparently he had never seen Wade get shot through the _heart_ before.

He dropped immediately, first to his knees, and then slumped over on his side. Peter could only watch in horror for a few long seconds. Then he looked up at the last dealer, standing on the warehouse balcony with his gun drawn, and the edges of his vision went red.

Peter was incredibly fast when he wanted to be. One moment he was on the floor and the next he had a web over the gunman's eyes, having already shot a blast of webbing at his gun to knock it out of his hands. Peter tackled him to the ground and punched him once in the jaw, aiming to knock him out, and then punched him again… and again, and again, until his hands were covered in blood.

Distantly, he heard someone speaking. "--dey! Spidey! _Spidey, stop_!" Hands on his wrists startled him into sitting back, because the movement behind him hadn't set off his spidey sense at _all_. "Baby boy, it's okay, I'm okay." Wade made soft shushing noises, using his grip on Peter's wrists to fold them over Peter's chest and hold him still. "Only put me down for a minute. You know you'll never get rid of me. I'm like herpes, or crabs."

"W-Wade," Peter gasped. His face was hot and sticky under the mask, and he didn't know whether it was blood or tears--or both. 

"The one and only. Well, I'm sure there are more Wades--"

Peter struggled to break out of Wade's hold, lurching forward. Wade let go, probably expecting him to run, but he just turned around and threw his arms around Wade's neck. "Don't _do_ that!" he hissed against Wade's ear. "Stop _dying_!"

Wade held Peter around the waist just as tightly. "Can't promise that, Webs." He shifted so Peter was more comfortable in his lap and continued conversationally, "Askin' a lot. Oh, but dude who shot me is still breathing! So… that's a plus."

Peter didn't even have it in him to be relieved.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for some canon-typical gore and self-deprecation on wades part
> 
> as usual it got a little angstier than i was planning. i promise it has a happy ending though <3

Wade had literally only taken one step away from the Quinjet that dropped him off at Stark Tower before he had his arms full of Peter. He wasn't wearing his mask--or his suit, Wade noticed when his hands automatically slid down to Peter's ass and found denim instead of spandex.

"Hello gorgeous," Wade murmured, leaning back a bit in Peter's death grip to look at his face. "Missed me?"

Peter grinned down at him, his honey eyes almost sparkling in the setting sun behind them.

**So we're a fucking poet now?**

` Self-publishing in the "books" section of iTunes does not a poet make.`

**Damn Whitey… that was deep.**

Wade missed whatever Peter said next, too busy trying to quiet the boxes for a single solitary second. They were his constant companions, which was a good thing back in the day when Wade operated alone and could count on a hard brain reset when they got loud. Now that he was with significant other it was much harder to sneak away with a 9mm and quiet things down.

Sometimes just Peter's presence was enough to keep White and Yellow indistinct and fuzzy around the edges. Other times,

`Hey dumbass, our boyfriend is trying to talk to us.`

"Sorry, baby boy, what was that?" Wade asked. He hitched Peter up a bit, like he _needed_ any help sticking where he wanted to be.

And somehow, even though Wade felt like total shit for ignoring him, Peter didn't seem upset at all. "Pinky and the Brain won't shut up?" he asked sympathetically, stroking Wade's masked cheek with one hand.

**_Yooo!_ He _bodied_ us!**

` Genuine pain.`

"You already know it."

Peter made an apologetic sound and pressed his lips to Wade's forehead. "Keep it down in there, you two. I'm trying to initiate a romantic reunion."

`Tell him we couldn't deserve anything less.`

**Tell him we want a dick appointment instead!**

Wade winced, tightening his own arms around Peter's waist. "Don't think it's working. Can we just go home?"

"Of course, honey." Peter carefully set his feet back on solid ground and kissed Wade's mask again before letting go. Then he took Wade's hand and led him away from the jet and into the tower. "You missed so much!" he said, walking backward ahead of Wade without releasing his hand. "I made a _huge_ breakthrough in my research, and got replicable results! And you won't _believe_ what I caught Stark and Banner doing in the basement labs."

The cacophony in Wade's head was keeping him from getting excited about the no doubt juicy stories Peter was saving for him, but he tried to make proper listening noises so Peter didn't worry. "I can imagine, even though I don't want to," he joked a couple of seconds too late.

Peter's smile faltered a little and Wade's heart threatened to drop into his stomach.

**Remember the time that really happened? Wild!**

` Who knew a corpse could vomit?`

Wade pressed his free hand over his eyes and Peter gently squeezed his fingers. "I called a Lyft," he said softly as they entered the elevator. "We'll be home soon." There was no way it could be soon enough, but Wade nodded anyway.

Almost half an hour later, Peter locked the front door behind them, letting Wade stand off to the side and disarm.

`Aka drop Bea and Arthur on the floor like an animal.`

**If Bea is scratched our fucking _head's_ getting scratched!**

` …`

**With a fucking… bullet!!!**

` Jesus Christ.`

"Sweetheart?" _That_ nickname knocked some clarity back into Wade's brain. It wasn't one Peter used often--he preferred to stick to either honey or babe, two of the most "married life" nicknames Wade could imagine, and didn't that tug at a feeling he thought had atrophied years ago--and he usually saved it for… intimate times.

**Gay.**

"Yeah, sorry Petey, I'm listening."

Peter looked up at him for a few moments, and then carefully began to pull his mask off. Wade shut his eyes while he did it; for some reason he was absolutely sure Peter would gasp or yell or _pity_ him when he saw his face for the first time in almost a month.

Warm, soft lips touched the corner of his mouth. "I missed you, beautiful," Peter murmured without moving away. "Suit off."

Despite basically issuing an order, Peter took it upon himself to strip Wade, pile everything from his guns to his boots in front of the door, and herd him into the bathroom. Their shower would be uncomfortable fitting any two normal people, but Peter's spider powers meant he was at home in little corners and he was able to slide the glass door closed around them before drenching them in absolutely scalding water.

"Sorry, sorry!" he stammered, adjusting the temperature as quickly as he could. The familiar Parker Luck was enough to make Wade smile, though, and Peter's answering grin was almost blinding. "There he is! Keep that same energy, okay?"

**We're really fucking this up. Like, world-shattering amounts of fuckup. Earth-quaking amounts.**

` We **are** poetic today.`

Peter took it upon himself to scrub all of the mission debris off of Wade's disgusting skin. For his part, Wade looked at the ceiling, so he didn't freak out and push Peter away.

`We'd really hurt him, too. It's the only thing we're good at.`

"Petey's stronger than that," Wade said out loud.

"I sure am," Peter agreed, despite only hearing half of the conversation. He turned off the water and opened the glass door just enough to web a towel over, and then patted Wade dry with military efficiency. "Now!" he said, very gently drying Wade's face with just a corner, "Time to rest. Your AAR can wait."

Wade leaned against the rapidly cooling tile wall. "Couldn't be less tired."

"You don't have to sleep."

"I'm not a fucking infant. You can't put me down for a fucking nap and call it a day." Wade was panting like he ran a marathon after that outburst but Peter didn't seem all that affected, still looking up at him with a neutral expression and the towel in one hand. "I didn't--"

**Yes, we did~**

Wade put his hands on either side of his head and pressed, _hard_ , while Yellow cackled. Peter was on him before he could cause any real damage, holding both wrists in one hand in an… interesting display of strength.

He slid the door open with his other hand. "I didn't mean to upset you, sweetheart," he said in a low voice. "I don't want to argue. Let's just go to bed, okay?"

Wade nodded once and left their tiny bathroom, walking over to the bed to search the messy sheets for his pajamas, sure that Peter hadn't moved them even though he was gone for almost four weeks. He was surprised to find a perfectly made bed instead, and lying on top, a pale pink spaghetti-strap babydoll nightie.

Peter came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Wade's waist, looking over his shoulder. "Supposed to be a surprise for you," he said with a little gesture toward the bed.

`Imagine how hideous we'd look in that.`

**Is that _silk_? Are we _sure_ Peter doesn't have a secret girlfriend?**

Jealousy swiftly followed by shame tightened around Wade's chest. "Not feeling very pretty today, Pete."

"I think you're pretty. I think you're beautiful, baby." Peter pressed his lips to Wade's shoulder blade. "Would you wear it for me?"

"I don't think I'm up for sex, either."

"'S not what I asked."

**Just let him fuck us, coward! We owe him that much!**

Wade took a step forward out of Peter's hold and picked up the nightie, feeling the delicate fabric slide over the rough battleground of his skin, and then slipped it over his head before he could think too hard about it. Peter inhaled sharply behind him. "Wade… you're _so_ beautiful," he sighed.

Wade threw himself into the bed face down, just to be contrary. Peter chuckled and started to move around the room, messing with the thermostat and turning off lights. Eventually he was in bed next to Wade in a cute little pair of red boxer briefs, smiling at him in the last of the sunlight coming in through the windows.

"Have they fucked off yet?" Peter asked while pulling Wade close to his chest and tucking his head under his chin. Wade made a negative sound against his throat. "Want me to read you a story?"

`And we're the one who said we weren't an infant. Pathetic.`

"Please," Wade rasped.

Peter fumbled for his phone without moving away, and then there was a dim blue light illuminating the back of the room. "Let's see… that Wonder Woman fanfiction you're subbed to updated twice while you were away. We'll just start from the beginning."

Wade couldn't _entirely_ drown out the boxes, and he didn't fall asleep at any time, but Peter's quiet voice and even breaths kept him safe from himself for another night.


End file.
